The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1887-07-30
WFsTM r. MD, SATURDAY, JULY 30 1887

eyes danced; he began to whistle and sing
snatches of songs and make grimaces at the
baby, who gaped at him open-mouthed over
Teresitas shoulder Yet he could be still.
1t was marvel to me how, but there l had
the quaint roguish smile and flashing up
ward glance crystalized under my fingers
at will. | became fascinated with my
work and took negative after negative.
The light was strong and clear, and l prom
ised to print him proof before he left.
He would not trust to my sending it
wouldn't tell me where to find him in Bel
minister, or the name of the hospital where
his mother was. Then while | was pre-
pairing plate he began to sing. Icouldn't
understand word of the song, but it made
me feel like crying, till he gave whistle
and stamp, and, swapping his SINGERS, start
ed off into dance with chorus that set
Teresita clapping her hands and capering,
and the baby jumping and growing with
ecstasy. Before he left he had confided to
us the whole story of the missing Michael
mas goose with such wonderful mimicry of
speech and action that even now | can i'm
agine l saw the whole proceeding. The
pert gypsy wench, with bundle of grass
and leaves under her cloak instead of Il
baby, lowering round the blacksmith S
goose pen with basket of small wares; the
blacksmith's facetiousness over the choice
of ncckerchief and breastpin and clumsy
attempts at gallantry; the excitement of
the instant when his back was turned and
with one artful grasp and twirl the fattest
of the flock was seized and gasped his last,
done up in the baby's red shawl. He acted
it all-the muzzy, beery, amorous smith,
the coquettish, wicked-eyed young gypsy,
and the dying flap and futter of the victim.
How we laughed while 1 secretly deter
mined to make sure that the watch was safe
in my pocket and. the drops in Teresita's
ears before l showed our fascinating young
friend off the premises.
at was dusk when he bade us goodbye
and departed, the photograph tenderly
wrapped in the red rag from his neck.
"I will come again in dui-trin-shtdr
divrus-in four days more, at this hour,
and will pay you
"'If he does not the Holy Mother will,
said Teresita with conviction.
''I am afraid / had not Teresita's faith
in either one or the other, miserable sinner
that | was. We closed for the night, and
I was moodily clearing the studio of the
litter of cracked nuts, muddy footmarks,
and stray brass button, when knock at
the door shook our house to its founda-
tions.
"A man in the Sandbar livery was I'M
steadily holding on to the door handle,
He brought a note which ought to have
reached me an hour before. Lord Sandbar
would be happy to see me at the Castle to-
morrow. He wished for some instruction
and assistance in photography, and also de-
sired to have some views of Cliffe and the
Castle ruins The terms offered were
princely. How Teresita exulted
81 was at the Castle early next day. 1t
is a splendid ivy-grown old pile, half in
crumbling ruins, the other half dark and
seowling with Notifications, turret and bat.
tlement, drawbridge and portcullis-the
very home for the grim-visaged man-hatine
recluse that l, somehow, expected to find;
or, if not, then Byronic youth with q
naughty mien and Woe stamped on his
passion furrowed brow. Lord Sandbal
was neither. Only great solemn awk-
ward lout, with broad shoulders and q
ruddy countenance composed into prigg
ish sobriety. He was evidently serious
and began to exhort me affectionately like
a little tract before l had finished unpack
ing my traps. l didn't mind. 1t was al
in the days work, but it looked as if il
hadn't agreed with the other visitor at thu
Castle-a stout, jovial little gentleman with
merry eye and weatherbeaten counte
nance, whom Lord Sandbar called Majol
Carberry. I found that he was an ole
friend of Lord Sandbars father, and haC
asked for few days shooting at Cliffe
and Lord Sandbar, who had come down OF
business, had staid to entertain him.
II think they must have had bad TIM
together. The Earl looked askance at thu
Major as a little dog does at big one whc
may take him up and shake him any day
the Major eyed the Earl with curiosit.
not unmixed with disgust Good Lord
that that should be poor Ralph's SOM
heard him growlina consternated voice asid'
once. Both received me and my cameri
cordially az a sort of safe neutral subject
The Major was, as knew by report, {
distinguished amateur artist, and one whom
it was worth my while to cultivate. Th
Earl was anxious to learn. Going to maxi
magic lantern slides for his Sunday schoo
tea parties, the Major explained.
awe worked very harmoniously all day
and began to get considerably interesteI
in my employer, He was so big, so stroD!
50 full of life and vigor, SO incredibly sedat
. and goody. I'm sure the Countess woul'
say'-'Mr. 0liphant, my stepfather, woul'
not allow'-were phrases continually oil
his lips, and all his talk was of the doing
of his own special little coterie, outside o
which was no salvation. He had grea
deal to tell about his work in the slums
: and the ragamufin class generally; but
seemed to me to consist chiefly in prevent
ing its objects being got at by other folk,
missions which didn't happen to mate
its shade of opinion.
T However, by degrees he gave up preacf
Ing when he found 1t was not expecte
from him. The Major relieved his min
9 by shooting all the morning and workin
with us in the afternoon, and we got alon
E very harmoniously. Lord Sandbar use
to listen with zest to some of the Major
t marvellous sporting anecdotes. Fieldspori
t might have been passion with him if b
had ever been allowed to indulge i
, When Major Carberry's "reminiscences too
a social turn it was amusing to watch th
good young noblemans face, pink with al
0 prehension of hearing something naught.
i his efforts to suppress shame-faced guffaV
and the extra primness of his demeanC
for the next few minutes.
n a.He's been bottled and corked up t.
long, that young man, the Major confde
{ to me. His ideas are fermenting in h
head. There'll be an explosion some
IL L. o,J ba noddad ominouelv no